The Punishment Game
by thezooqueen
Summary: Just how far is America willing to go to end England's drinking problem? - US/UK, Human names used. This will either be a oneshot or an ongoing story. It will depend on you.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Hetalia, that privilege belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya-sensei. If I did, then it would be all yaoi all the time. :D**

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**The Punishment Game**

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**Alfred's POV**

"Yes, thank you Sir for calling me. I am sorry this has become a habit. Yes just put his bill on my card." he nodded at the bartender as he lifted the unconscious Brit onto his back. Arthur's head lolled onto his neck and he had to hold his breath to keep from choking on the fumes of alcohol.

"Jeeze Artie, this is becoming pretty pathetic." he shook his head as he headed out of the bar and into the snow. With the chilling wind biting at him he wanted to pull his coat around himself tighter, but could not because England was now binding it to his back. He sighed and trudged the few feet to his car and gently laid the older country into the back seat. Before he shut the door, he turned Arthur onto his side, to be safe. Luckily the car was still warm, but feeling guilty looking down at the helpless man he took off his bomber jacket and draped it across the drunken country. He stood a moment longer when movement caught his attention and he saw Arthur snuggle into the jacket. He could not help but smile as he shut the door. He made his way to the driver's side, climbed in behind the wheel, turned on the car, and drove to his home.

**Narrator's POV**

This had become a routine between the two of them. Arthur would get depressed over something and become completely inebriated. The bartender, who by now had Alfred's cell number on speed dial, would call waking up the American. The first couple times, Alfred being the kindhearted soul that he is, let it slide. After that, when it seemed that England was going to continue, Alfred tried to distract the older country from such ideas. It worked for a little while, but it did not last. Shortly after that, Alfred began to get angry. He expressed his anger in various ways such as cutting the other man's credit cards, hiding his identification, he even went so far as to destroy all of Arthur's evening clothes; but he could not deter the drunk. With a heavy heart, America decided it was time for England to pay.

**Arthur's POV**

He slowly blinked open his eyes. The first thing he noticed was the blindingly white walls. As he became more focused, He realized he was in a small white room with one lamp on the ceiling. The lamp seemed to sway back and forth slowly at its own rhythm. The next and more frightening thing he discovered was he was strapped to a table. His clothes he was wearing were nowhere to be seen and he lay nude on this table with nothing but a sheet covering his lower regions. His hands were strapped above his head together. His feet were strapped to the edge of the table in and inviting position which drew a humiliating blush to the now hung-over Brit.

"Bloody hell! Where am I?" he demanded, but no one was there to answer. In a fit of panic he jerked on the bindings over and over, but they did not release.

"What the hell! What the hell! What the hell!" he yelled at the door while jerking his arms and feet. The sheet that lay over his waist drifted lower on his hips; still he received no answer. He tried to calm down and deduce what had happened before he woke up here. His mind went blank. He had absolutely no idea what had happened. The last thing he remembered was going into the bar to have a few drinks. That was when he realized his next major issue; he had to go to the bathroom. He clenched up tightly.

"Let me out of here! I have to use the john!" He closed his eyes and tipped his head back trying to focus all of his energy to maintaining bladder control. Minuets passed like hours and hours passed like days. Tears began to form in his eyes. He was going to lose control and there was nothing he could do about it.

"You made it so simple Arthur." a robotic voice spoke from the intercom at the door. The voice caused him to jump.

"You used to be so great. And look at yourself now. Epic tales in history were written about you! Now you are nothing but a cowardly drunk. A drunk whom I might add, made it oh so very simple to be captured. Look at yourself Arthur." He began to sob at the voice. He was in pain, alone, cold, and ready to wet himself.

"Please" he cried.

"Please let me go." He tried to huddle in on himself, but could not.

"Please" he whimpered to the inanimate voice. He heard nothing but silence. Just as he was getting ready to give up, the voice spoke again.

"Let's call this a warning shall we? The robotic voice offered.

"We shall release you just this once. However, if we ever find you in such a state again, I assure you, you will not like what will be done to you." With that, his eyes grew wide in understanding and he nodded his head in agreement to the intercom.

The lights went out and the room was pitched black and he could not see anything at all. He began to get scared. He heard rather than saw a door open to his room. He felt a presence approach his side. He was getting ready to speak to the person when he heard a hissing sound followed by a sickly sweet odor. He felt himself drawn into sleep.

He woke up on the side of the road to the sound of a car approaching. He first noted he was wearing his clothing and coat. Even though the ground was covered in snow, it was not completely freezing out. The headlights blinded him temporally and came to a stop in front of him. The door flew open and Alfred jumped out.

**Narrator's POV**

"Arthur? Oh. My. God. What did they do to you?!" Alfred ran over to the weakened man lying beside the road. America quickly lifted England up and held him close.

"I received this call from your cell phone, but it was not you, and... God, Arthur what happen?" America carried England to the car. Alfred climbed into the back seat with Arthur and held the man to his chest rubbing reassuring circles on the Arthur's back. The older country was racked with sobs, but as he realized he was in the safety of his friend's embrace, he began to calm down. The Brit laid his head in the dip of Alfred's neck and tried to settle his shuddering breath.

"There there. It is over now. Shhh. It's ok now." Alfred pet Arthur gently. England slowly nodded his head and sat in silence.

"Let's go home now Artie" England nodded again. America slowly lowered the older country down onto the backseat. Alfred left the car and shut the backseat door behind him. America then paused a moment before heading to the driver side. A smile slowly formed on his face. He did not like the idea of scaring his dearest friend, but he prayed that this method would have the desired effect. But as much as it pained him, the idea of taking it to the next step was becoming appealing.

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I have not decided if this should be an oneshot or a continuation. I guess it will depend on the response and feedback.

Blessed Be


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 Case in evidence**

**Narrator POV**

Since the incident, Arthur had been staying at Alfred's house. Alfred had insisted he stay with him and Arthur was not in any shape to argue. During that time, when Alfred was home from work, he monitored Arthur. Alfred felt guilty and wanted to make sure he had not sent him around the bend. Arthur already had a habit of talking to fairies and unicorns, which were something Alfred, found to be really neat to hear about as a kid; but now it was a bit nerve-racking.

**Alfred's POV**

The morning alarm sounded off, He reached over and slammed his hand down on the snooze button. He rolled over on his bed and snuggled deeper the blankets; trying to grasp for a few more moments of blissful sleep. 5minuets later he was torn from his slumber. He then slowly dragged himself out of bed. He took a few steps, stretched, and took a deep breath.

_'Oh no, Arthur is cooking breakfast.'_ He thought smelling the air. He shook his head sadly, and walked into the bathroom to take a shower. After his shower he dried off and dressed for work.

_'We both have begun our days as normal as possible considering the situation. Luckily, Arthur has started talking again and to my dismay also cooking again. Oh Well. I will eat as much as I can before my stomach revolts on me.'_ He walked into the kitchen and reached into the cabinet for a coffee mug, as he did, he looked over at the two bowls prepared on the table. He said a small prayer to himself.

_'Please! Let it at least be edible.'_ He poured some coffee.

"Good Morning Alfred." England chirped.

"Morning Artie" Alfred said with apprehension in his voice. He sat down at the table and looked at; whatever the hell you could call the grey matter occupying the bowls.

"Don't start with me this early in the morning; you know that is not my name." Arthur snapped.

_'Oh my, what is this?'_ Alfred dipped the spoon in the glop, but soon realized that he would have to shove the spoon in through the stuff. He made a valiant effort to eat a few bites, with the aid of several gulps of coffee to force it down.

_'Even Artie's coffee tastes bad. But I always admired the man for making the effort and trying. I just hope someone doesn't die of food poisoning first. Hopefully, I have already developed immunity to it.'_ He smiled, to Arthur, as he thought this. Arthur never noticed as his' nose, was stuck in a book. The older Country was reading a collection of poems, by Edger Allan Poe.

"So how do you like your oatmeal? You did not really have much else here for breakfast." Arthur asked.

_'God this is oatmeal? How do you screw up oatmeal? It was instant for Christ's sake!'_

"Um…Ya dude. Thanks for the meal Artie, but you don't need to cook for me. …No seriously. I usually don't even eat breakfast."

"But you should eat three square meals a day" Arthur replied

"Whenever I am hungry, in the morning, I usually just hop over to McDonalds; and get myself a few Egg McMuffins."

"That rubbish, cannot even be classified as food." Arthur countered.

"…Well whatever man. Anyways, I am full. Thanks." Alfred forced a smile on his face and rubbed his belly in an attempt to look like he was full, but actually, he was rubbing it to ease the growing pain.

"Oh by the way, I will be going home tomorrow." Arthur said without looking up from his novel.

"Come again?" Alfred asked; suddenly tense.

"Oh, I will one day. You very well know that." Arthur replied just before taking a sip of his tea.

"What? No. I mean repeat what you said." He asked the older country

"Oh. I shall be taking a flight out of here to London tomorrow afternoon. I will hate to miss my tea time. Tea aboard airliners just is not the same." The older country replied as he turned a page in his book.

"Are you sure you're up for that Artie?" Alfred stood up from his chair, and suddenly, he felt like a weight was pressing down on his head. The pain he felt earlier, in his stomach, now made him feel nauseous. The weight pressing on his head now caused his mind to swim and he was having trouble trying to think of what he was going to say.

"A…re…you…sur…" He began. He shook his head slowly and blinked trying to get the white spots out of his eyes. Alfred tried again.

"Are you…You…" Alfred wiped his now sweaty forehead with the palm of his hand.

"…know…what? I… not… feeling…"

**Narrators POV**

Alfred stopped talking mid-sentence He dropped his empty mug, causing it shatter on the tile floor. Alfred tried to grab onto his chair, but missed and fell to the floor. America lay unconscious. England glanced up casually from his book over to the younger country. Finding the youth's prone form satisfactory, England went back to reading his book and drinking tea.

**Flashback:** A few days earlier.

**Arthur's POV**

At the United Kingdom's Embassy, a man in an officer's uniform approached his' country. The officer stood at attention and saluted. England saluted the officer in return. The officer handed him a large manila envelope.

"Great, you have the results back already." England smiled with adoration, to one of his best men.

"I am sure you did a fine job; given the caliber of your skills. I also doubt you had any issues, running such a fast paced OP, on American soil." England was boasting for the officer, he knew that the officer would not, in England's presence. The officer beamed with pride at England's words of appraisal.

"I will take it from here." England nodded to the man in uniform. The officer then excused himself and left. Arthur got up from behind his desk with the envelope in hand, walked across the office to the couch set between two large oak bookshelves.

Carefully, he opened the envelope and pulled out the papers. He paused a moment.

_'Perhaps I should call Alfred. The poor fool has been acting like a mother hen all week.'_ He shook the thought away.

_'I he can always tell him after.'_ He pulled out the papers, and his eyes quickly skipped over the military jargon arriving to the main point of the document.

**Case in evidence:**_The kidnapping and assault of 'unnamed person of importance'…_

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Please read and review. Let me know what you thing of the turn a coin.

As always

Blessed be


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